


Wildlife Biologist (Deinonychus)

by smilebackwards



Category: Jurassic Park (Movies), Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Movie, Velociraptors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 09:25:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4174653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilebackwards/pseuds/smilebackwards
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Thank God, maybe I can finally discontinue my ulcer medication,” Owen’s sister Sam says when he calls to tell her he’s leaving the Navy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wildlife Biologist (Deinonychus)

“Thank God, maybe I can finally discontinue my ulcer medication,” Owen’s sister Sam says when he calls to tell her he’s leaving the Navy. 

“I got a new job,” he says. “In Costa Rica.”

“What the fuck could you possibly be doing in Costa Rica?” Sam asks. “Come home and finish veterinary school. Mom and I miss you like crazy.”

“It’s kinda new. They don’t have a solid job title yet,” Owen says. The job posting said Wildlife Biologist (Deinonychus) and the interviewer said Velociraptor Handler, looking like he expected Owen to get up and walk out the door. As he was leaving the incubation lab, Owen heard one of the scientists propose Crazy Motherfucker. “But I’ll be working at Jurassic World, training Velociraptors.”

There’s a pregnant pause and Owen wonders if the line’s dropped and he’ll have to call back and do his dramatic reveal all over again. Then Sam makes a noise like she’s strangling a chicken. “Other people rescue cats, Owen,” she says before hanging up on him.

-

Owen’s on-boarding at Jurassic World feels somewhat premature. When he arrives, there aren’t any Velociraptors at all. 

“We’re working on them,” Dr. Wu says, injecting mRNA into an embryo with a needle. “Most of them have failed during neurulation. We’re experimenting with the DNA of successfully domesticated reptiles to try to counteract the extraordinary aggression displayed in the originals twenty years ago.” He holds up a vial. “What do you think? Chameleon or iguana?”

“How about one with stripes?” Owen says.

-

While Wu and the others work their science magic, Owen visits some of the dinosaurs that have made it past the embryo and egg stages. 

He presses his face to the glass of the Mosasaurus’ giant aquarium and munches on a bag of badly named carnivore caramel corn with a group of tourists eagerly awaiting the Tyrannosaurus’ feeding time.

“Hey,” one of the trainers says when Owen stops to visit Stella the Stegosaurus, “You’re the new handler, right? For the raptors?”

Owen nods. “Once they finish the whole Frankenstein process. Owen.”

“I’m Enrique,” the trainer says, shaking Owen’s hand. “Hang on a second, I’ve got something for you to read.”

Owen feels his curiosity pique. The most comprehensive book he could find on Velociraptors was a total of 48 pages, full of vague sketches and statements with qualifiers like _paleontologists believe Velociraptors could have been feathered_ and _Velociraptors may have hunted in groups but it’s also possible that they were anti-social with their own kind._

“Here,” Enrique says when he returns. He hands Owen a battered field journal held closed with ancient rubber bands. “I’ve been here five months now. This is always bequeathed to the latest recruit.”

Owen takes the journal back to his hotel room and opens it carefully. _Robert Muldoon, April 1993 -_ is inscribed on the inside cover in black ink.

Muldoon’s spiky-lettered prose reads like an Arthur Conan Doyle novel but when Owen boils it down, the sections devoted to raptors essentially read, _my God what have these idiots done? Amazing creatures but omfg you idiots_ and _EIGHT of them?? Hammond, you asshole._

Owen’s never been more excited in his life.

-

They let Owen work with the Ankylosauruses while the raptors are perfected and incubated and four months later, finally, finally someone shouts through the park megaphone, “Owen Grady to the incubation lab. Owen Grady to the incubation lab immediately!”

Owen guns his motorcycle down the thoroughfare, tourists in fanny packs and cut offs diving out of his way, and bursts into the lab, gasping. “Am I in time?”

“Stand right here,” Wu says, propelling Owen across the lab and in front of a clutch of four eggs, one of which is cracked and bulging as one of the raptors tries to break out. Owen holds his breath and lets her make her own way into the world.

When she tumbles her way out onto the lab table, Owen can see that she’s _perfect._ Six fingers and six toes. He traces the blue stripe down her flank. 

“Made to order,” Wu says, smiling. 

Owen feels a momentary crush of hubris, but the tiny raptor is scratching at his palms and he adores her desperately already. “Hey, Blue,” he says, letting her gnaw at the tip of his finger, teeth like needle points. 

Her sisters hatch one by one—Charlie, Delta, Echo—over the next six hours.

Owen helps brush away pieces of eggshell and cups his hands around them. “Everything’s going to be fine,” he promises. He’s going to be the best goddamn Wildlife Biologist (Deinonychus)/Velociraptor Handler/Crazy Motherfucker this park has ever seen.


End file.
